<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Too Late, Now by CLeighWrites</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603714">Too Late, Now</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites'>CLeighWrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Random Song Inspired Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Actor Jensen Ackles, Angst, Bar Owner Jared Padalecki, Best Friend Jared Padalecki, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by Music, Jealousy, Post-Break Up, San Jac, Song: Happier (Ed Sheeran)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:47:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You had no choice but to leave Jensen before things got too bad; Jensen could never forgive himself for not making you feel like you were his world. How would he feel if he knew that you had moved on and were happier without him?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jensen Ackles/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Random Song Inspired Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Too Late, Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/gifts">Impala_Dreamer</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was what I had originally written to make @impala-dreamer feel something for her challenge, but when I reread the challenge specifications, I realized that I had just basically written the song, so I had to redo it, which is where <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22489003">Before it's Too Late</a> came from... but I couldn't just delete this... so it kinda works as a part 2. This is still using Ed Sheeran’s <i>Happier</i> for inspiration, obviously.</p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <br/>  </p>
</div>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was raining when he saw you again because, of course, it was; it had fit the mood he’d been in since you left. Not that he ever blamed you for that. Jensen Ackles didn’t have the time to devote to you that you needed, you deserved more… <i>better</i> than him. The man beside you was holding an umbrella over you and you were smiling as you were talking to him. It had been so long since he’d seen your smile that he’d <i>almost</i> forgotten what it looked like. That thought sent a wave of guilt-driven nausea through him, so he averted his gaze. </p><p>Unbeckoned by him, flashes of you ran through his head. That time in Malibu on the beach, the sun highlighting your features in the day, and the firelight dancing across your body that night. When you’d visited him in Vancouver and started a snowball fight with Jared when you had gone on a run in the park. When you had agreed to move in with him and showed up with three suitcases full of clothes and shoved him away from his closet to get to work reorganizing. He laughed, despite his mood, remembering all the impromptu sing-alongs and mini-concerts the two of you had had with friends.</p><p>With his ball cap pulled down further to cover more of his face and his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, he trudged the rest of the way down the street. The wind was whipping, and the raindrops stung where they found exposed flesh, both a perfect reflection of the storm of thoughts that were raging in his head. He should have tried harder, not given up, fought to keep you. At least <i>you</i> had moved on.</p><p>You looked much more carefree than the last few months he had spent with you. Crestfallen, Jensen wondered if the two of you had been together long; if he got to brush the wayward strands of hair out of your face when you got too distracted to bother with it; if he got to cover you with your favorite blanket when you passed out on your sofa binge-watching your favorite show. Did he know how you prefer your coffee, or what you like on your pizza? Did he know that you like your baths boiling-lobster hot, but your showers luke-warm? Did he know that you liked to read when you woke up in the morning before starting your day? Was he the one there, now, to hold you when the world around you was too much? </p><p>“Shut. <i>Up</i>,” he reprimanded himself. He didn’t get to miss holding you in his arms; he’d been the one to fuck everything up.</p><p>He lamented missing things in your life. No major events, but enough of the little ones that they added up over the years. He hated that he had to be out of the country ten months out of the year, and was constantly traveling in the interim. You would only tolerate so many award shows and red carpets, getting dressed up and made up was never really your bag, and he knew that; he just wanted to find some way of having you with him for the things that he could. You wanted a normal consistent life, and he would never be able to give that to you. It was impossible to focus on you with all the fans and paps out to snap pictures everywhere he went. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just ignore them.</p><p>The artificial air chilled him as he opened the door to San Jac and walked into the familiar space, a mop of brown hair sticking up at least half of a foot over every other head in the bar gave him his destination. He could hear Jared laughing at something the closer he got. Jared was like his own personal giant puppy and sunshine all rolled into one; he was Jensen’s rock. If it weren’t for him, Jensen probably would have ended up in a ditch through the bottom of an empty bottle weeks ago. As it were, Jared had given him a reason to leave his house; a mutual friend was kicking off their Texas Bar Tour at San Jac, and Jared had insisted that he be there to see them off. </p><p>Jensen held up two fingers to the bartender, nodded to Jared, and made his way to the table in the farthest corner of the room. His current mood and stress level were making a crowded bar the last place he wanted to be. At least he could blend in with the shadows, maybe he would get lucky, and no one would recognize him. Lady Luck wasn’t exactly someone that had been overly friendly with him, of late, so he wasn’t going to count on being able to sulk and reminisce the night away. </p><p>A chill ran through him, and when he looked up, he saw you walk through the door, laughing, as the man you were with struggled with his umbrella. The scrape of glass on wood brought his attention away from the toothy grin you were sharing with Mr. Megawatt Smile. Jared’s mouth was twisted into a mournful smile when Jensen’s eyes finally landed on his face. Jared raised his eyebrows and his glass, a gesture of understanding and solidarity. </p><p>Jensen could always count on his friend to say, or not say, the right thing. He returned the motion and downed both fingers of whiskey in one blistering gulp. The rim of the empty glass hit the table with a satisfying, hollow sound. Jensen pressed his lips together and tried to turn them into a smile for Jared. <i>Man, does he look worried.</i> </p><p>“You know… you didn’t <i>have</i> to come out tonight. If you’re not feeling up to it.” </p><p>Jensen nodded and rolled his eyes. “Too late, now.” He lifted his eyebrows and shifted his focus back to where you had taken a seat at your favorite window table.</p><p>Jared checked over his shoulder, following his line of sight, then slid his untouched tumbler across the table. Jensen downed it while his friend went back to get another round. Feedback resounded throughout the somewhat small space as the band grabbed their instruments and took their places to start their set. Flashbacks of other nights and other bands were fighting to take over the present, and his anxiety was starting to get the better of him, so he let his eyes roam the room and catalog everything. </p><p>He took note of the groups of people who were together: the singles, the couples, the people who were already three sheets to the wind, and then there was you. Sitting alone, now, you were people watching just like he was, your previous smile nowhere to be seen. You looked more morose than contemplative, causing Jensen to doubt his previous assumption. He wondered if he were closer, would he be able to see you chewing the inside of your cheek? Were you squeezing your fingers under the table? He couldn’t tell if your knee was bouncing from nervous energy or in time with the band.</p><p>Before he could tear his eyes away, you glanced his direction. Your eyes widened and your expression morphed, you didn’t necessarily look sad, or mad, but you didn’t look happy either. Your lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile when Mr. Umbrella Man came up with some brightly colored drink sporting a bunch of fruit and a paper umbrella around the rim, which he handed over to you. You thanked him for the offered drink, then your eyes came right back to him. He quirked his eyebrow in question, a disbelieving smirk having forced its way onto his face. You shrugged and smirked yourself, then returned your attention to what was obviously your blind--or at least first-time--date. He clearly hadn’t asked you what you’d prefer to drink. </p><p>Just as the second tumbler was joining its sibling, Jared came back with a small tray filled with four beers, two clean tumblers, and a half-empty bottle of top-shelf scotch. Jensen took a long draw on the beer that had been closest to him while Jared poured them each another drink, not bothering to stop at the traditional two fingers. Jensen was grateful; if he had to sit here and watch you pretend to be happy with some schmuck, at least he could do it through amber-infused glasses, or whatever. </p><p>“It won’t last long,” Jared commented, seeing that his eyes had gone right back to you again.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“This new guy. He didn’t even ask her what she wanted to drink. She’s not going to put up with someone like that for very long.”</p><p>Jensen hummed again. “She put up with me for a <i>while</i>.”</p><p>“Jens, that’s not the-”</p><p>“I know. But still.” Jensen swallowed a big enough gulp of his scotch to burn the taste of regret from his throat. </p><p>“You’re going to be alright. I’m here for you.” Jared raised his beer to his lips and took a big swig, then turned to watch the band. </p><p>“Yeah,” Jensen grumbled into his own beer, not convinced in the least. Without you, he couldn’t even fathom the concept of ‘alright’. </p><p>Surprisingly, the music and ambient noise from the crowd, combined with the scotch and beer, were easing Jensen out of his personal rain cloud. He started to people watch again, and when his eyes found yours once more, you both raised your drinks to each other with the same small smile. Maybe Jared was right… maybe he could be happy one day… or maybe he would just shoot for being worthy again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>